


A Good, Ol' Fashioned Lesson

by dryberry



Series: Short drabbles [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, English Tutor Jesse McCree, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Young Hanzo Shimada, idk what else to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8877757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dryberry/pseuds/dryberry
Summary: In order to expand his knowledge, Shimada Hanzo's father hires a foreign man as his english tutor. Surely his contract didn't involve spanking and having sex with his son - well shit, should have been more specific about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I finally post this. Thanks a lot @venvephe for beta-reading this filth and cheering me on the whole time <3 I apologize if there are any mistakes or if you feel the need to run to church after this.

“Father, this is not necessary,” Hanzo cuts in, immediately lowering his head in apology. “My studies have been going well and I can work harder. I won’t need a tutor.”

“I’m not punishing you, Hanzo. Indeed, your studies have been going well. But as the heir to the Shimada Clan, you need to reach more advanced levels faster than your brother, and the tutor I hired will ensure that. My decision stands. You may leave now.”

Frustration and shame boils in Hanzo’s stomach, clenching his fists as he rushes out of the room and towards the comforting space of his own chambers. An English tutor. Some foreign man from America. Hanzo’s hands shake with suppressed anger, and he lowers himself on the bed with less grace than usual. His tutor would arrive in a few hours. He already despises the stranger without even meeting the man yet.

It’s already past noon when the guards announce the man’s arrival and Hanzo grumbles stubbornly as he waits, sitting on the floor of his study room. Nothing could have prepared him for the man that enters the room. 

He’s straight out of one of those ridiculous Western movies Genji enjoys so much. Hanzo’s eyes dart from the Stetson on top of brown, shaggy hair down to the scruffy beard and the gaudy belt buckle. The cowboy is annoyingly handsome with a wide jaw, facial hair, and the flannel shirt straining against his broad shoulders and muscular arms. “Howdy, you must be Hanzo?”

His heart skips a few beats at the deep, smooth drawl as the older man speaks and he finds himself at loss for words. Hanzo’s throat is too dry to speak, so he gives the man a curt nod, not even bothering to stand up and offer his hand. 

The man seems at loss with the cold reaction, scratching the back of his head as he lowers himself to the floor and places the hat on the table in the middle of the spare room. “Uh, alright. I’m Jesse McCree, but Jesse is fine. So, got anythin’ here I can take a look at? I gotta know at what level you are, darlin’, before we can get to work.” 

Hanzo’s lip curls in disgust, sending the cowboy a withering look. “My English is just fine, Mr. McCree. As I have told Father before, I require no tutor. You may take your payment and leave again, for all I care.”

If the older man is taken back by Hanzo’s response, he doesn’t openly show it on his face, at least. Instead, he hums and scratches his scruffy beard in deep thought. “Your father said yer a stubborn lil’ thing, but you’re more prickly than a cactus. Gimme a chance! Your old man ain’t mean any harm and I don’t either. No need to be a brat.”

“I’m not a brat,” Hanzo’s voice rises along with his body as he stands, glaring down at the foreign man from America with his arms crossed. “And as I said, I don’t require help from a man who dresses like he just stumbled out of a barn. Have a good day, Mr. McCree.”

His father would be ashamed at how careless and impolite he is, not bothering to spare McCree even another glance as he strides past him. Hanzo doesn’t notice the calloused fingers curling around his wrist right away. Not until it’s too late.

He’s not exactly proud of the surprised sound he makes, twisting his body to the side as he stumbles backwards - only to realize that this was a mistakes as he lands clumsily across the older man’s lap.

“Not so fast, darlin’,” the cowboy chuckles, “Naughty kids like you need a good, ol’ fashioned lesson.” A strong, firm hand pins him in place, and any attempt to detach himself from McCree’s thighs are fruitless, even though that won’t stop Hanzo from stubbornly squirming on his lap.

“Let go of me this instant! My father will hear of this, I assure you,” he hisses like a displeased kitten, sinking his nails into the flesh of McCree’s thighs, but the light pain doesn’t seem to bother the cowboy much. Their position is indecent, embarrassing and not fit for the heir of the Shimada clan, but the older man easily keeps him in place. McCree’s fingers dig into the hem of his pants and suddenly tug down the fabric in one swift move. Hanzo blinks, the cool air brushing over his now exposed ass. Heat creeps up his neck, dusting his cheeks and the tips of Hanzo’s ears in rosy pink. His lips part in protest, anger blinding him so he doesn’t notice McCree lifting his flesh hand up, nor does he realize what the older man is about to do to him.

The first blow is a surprise. The sound of the slap as the flesh of McCree’s hand connects with his exposed cheek of his ass rings in Hanzo’s ears. He’s stunned into silence before he gasps as the pain filters through his dazed mind. At first humiliation and anger flares up inside him, but the cowboy is quick. Any kind of coherent thought process dissolves into another raspy gasp as he continues his assault on Hanzo’s rear. His body jerks forward with each slap, nails digging into the tatami mat underneath them. 

Not once in his life has Hanzo felt humiliated like this before, spanked like an unruly, disobedient brat who stole a cookie right before dinner. A breathy moan escapes his throat, and the hand halts.

The silence between them is only disturbed by Hanzo, who struggles to control his breathing. The abused cheek is throbbing and blooming in a soft, rosy pink. Calloused fingers knead the flesh, and Hanzo shudders as the heat rapidly coils in his stomach. By the time McCree speaks, he is painfully hard. “What was that, darlin’?”

Hanzo stubbornly remains silent, gritting his teeth as he awaits the next blow, but the cowboy seems to plan on toying with him a bit longer. Later, he might feel ashamed about the cry that leaves his throat as McCree continues his punishment. 

One. Two. Three. He’s barely allowed to catch his breath, grinding his achingly hard cock down on the older man’s thighs. Hanzo’s face burns; the lust and adrenaline rushing through his veins drown any kind shame the Shimada heir should feel at this vulgar display of dominance. If the gunslinger’s heavy breathing is any indication, he seems to enjoy this as much as Hanzo is. He isn’t close enough to McCree’s crotch to tell for sure, but the growl in his voice gives it away when he says, “I asked you somethin’, Hanzo. Ain’t daddy taught you to respect your elders?”

Daddy. A shiver surges through his body from head to toe, and Hanzo can feel his own cock grow impossibly hard. Yet the stubborn, proud young man is far from gone. Hanzo’s pink tongue darts out to wet his lips as he shifts his body into a more comfortable position. “No... daddy. You haven’t taught me properly, it seems.”

The next blow almost sends him toppling off McCree’s lap. He’s barely able to stifle the high-pitched cry tearing from his throat, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to muffle the sound at least a bit. Hanzo has lost count of the slaps, whimpering with each smack that echoes through the room, followed by a sweet buzzing and stinging ache. Apparently satisfied with the result, McCree switches to the other cheek, kneading the soft flesh before it receives the same treatment until it is sore and throbbing.

“What a bad boy,” McCree drawls, drawing a lazy pattern on the abused flesh. “D’you know what bad boys get if they don’t behave, darlin’? Daddy’s gonna have to punish ya.”

That’s as much as Hanzo can take; he jerks forward with a low moan and spills himself inside his pants at the thought, the sticky fluid soaking through his underwear. Hanzo whines at the cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to lift himself up on shaking arms. Out of the corner of his eyes he catches the glint of metal, but by the time McCree’s prosthetic hand comes down on his ass, it’s already too late for him.

Even as the last pulses of his orgasm only ebb away, his limp cock twitches with interest again. McCree’s flesh hand buries in Hanzo’s hair, giving it a harsh tug. Absentmindedly, Hanzo prays that the guards patrolling the estate haven’t caught notice of them yet, but he hardly believes that no one heard the loud cry he let out just now. He quickly sinks his teeth into the fingers of his right hand before the cowboy can deliver another blow, grunting as metal meets flesh over and over again.

McCree shifts his leg, gently rubbing it against his student’s oversensitive cock, and he hums with amusement in his voice. “Oh? Looks like Daddy’s lil’ boy was bad again. Comin’ like that without permission and gettin’ your panties all dirty.”

To Hanzo’s disappointment, which he announces with a low whine, the prosthetic hand halts. Once again he’s left waiting, but by now he anticipates the mix of pain and pleasure, the line between blurring. “Are you gonna behave for me now, angel? I got a mighty fine reward for you. You want to be good for Daddy, right?”

Hanzo ponders on the decision for a few heartbeats, curious about the reward - but misbehaving for the first time in his life sends his pulse running, and excitement makes him ache for more. His forehead is damp with sweat, skin flushed and he shakes his head, awaiting McCree’s reaction. “No, Daddy. I won’t behave.”

His tutor hums, twisting his upper body to reach for the bag he brought along and gathering something from it that Hanzo can’t see. Something slick and cold drips on the small of his back, running lower between his ass cheeks. McCree’s flesh hand keeps him in place, the now-slick prosthetic fingers follow the wet trail until they circle around his puckered hole. 

The first finger enters him without a warning, and Hanzo hisses as the edges of each small, metallic knuckle catch on the tight and moist walls. The cowboy gives him time to adjust, gently curling his finger upwards, and Hanzo moans around the hand in his mouth. Sensing his slight discomfort, McCree’s other hand moves down to Hanzo’s ass again to deliver the next harsh blow.

He can’t tell pain and pleasure apart anymore, meeting each thrust of McCree’s finger with moans that steadily grow louder. A second digit joins the first inside his hole, slicked with more lube, but he is already dripping and eagerly meets it halfway. The metallic fingers feel foreign, so different from his own - not only in temperature and material, but in how they are thicker and longer than Hanzo’s. They easily reach deep inside his body, yet avoid the most sensitive part on purpose. The tip of a finger may only brush his prostate just for a split moment, but it's enough to leave him wanting and squirming, spread over McCree’s lap with his heavy, hard cock between trembling thighs.

McCree pulls his pants down his legs completely, followed by his stained underwear, and discards them somewhere in the room. A third finger enters him, steadily thrusting and opening him up until McCree removes them all at once.

“Daddy?” Hanzo whimpers weakly at the sudden emptiness and lack of pleasure rocking through his body. McCree remains silent, removing his hands completely from Hanzo. The silence is frustrating, and grinding against McCree’s lap won’t give him the desired friction or fullness. After a few moments, he gives up. Hanzo finally breaks. 

“Daddy, don’t stop. Please, I promise I will be a good boy. I will behave, just don’t stop!” he babbles, trembling all over. 

Above him, McCree chuckles and finally he deems that Hanzo has been punished enough, pulling the young man up to straddle his thighs with his dripping cock making a mess all over the golden belt buckle. The rest of his clothes join the dirty pile on the floor, leaving him naked and exposed on McCree’s lap. Hanzo’s lips part in surprise as he feels the hard bulge against his abused ass, and he can’t help but to feel the satisfaction in knowing that it was his doing.

“Good boy,” McCree murmurs softly, his hands roaming over the planes of Hanzo’s chest, squeezing his pecs. He shivers at the cool touch of the prosthetic fingers and the warmth of the flesh ones alike. McCree massages his chest with an unfocused gaze, pupils wide-blown, and Hanzo chokes back a sob as he tweaks each sensitive nipple before the older man leans forward to wrap his lips around one. 

Torn between arching into the touch and pulling away to escape the merciless assault of lips, teeth and tongue, Jesse McCree has him whimpering and dripping wet within just a few minutes of torture. He’s still painfully aware of the emptiness inside him, impatiently grinding his sore ass down on McCree’s crotch, drawing a groan out of the cowboy.

“You want somethin’, darlin?” he pants. Hanzo nods his head feverishly, his pride forgotten long ago and replaced by the need for release. 

He grinds down on McCree’s twitching bulge once more to get the message across, eyes pleading. “Daddy, please.”

The cowboy feigns surprise, lips curling into a lopsided grin that sends a shiver down Hanzo’s spine. Anticipation builds and he willingly lifts his hips up to let McCree open the belt buckle and get rid of the rest of the unnecessary fabric between their bodies. 

Hanzo’s mouth waters at the sight of McCree’s thick, long length and his stretched hole aches to be filled with it. He watches the older man lazily lift the flannel shirt over his head, revealing a broad and muscular chest. Hanzo runs his fingers through the thick spread of dark hair, testing the waters and hesitantly rolling his hips forward. He can’t help the way he moans at the contact of heated flesh. McCree definitely isn’t the first man he’s slept with, but he has to admit that the cowboy’s cock is bigger than anything he felt inside him before.

Thighs shaking, Hanzo struggles to keep his own body weight up until finally the tip of McCree’s cock lines up with his twitching hole. He sinks down on the thick length faster than he should, and the pain reminds him of his limits - but the choked groan he draws from his tutor is more than worth it. “Ah-- hell, darlin. Tryin’ to kill your ol’ daddy?”

“Daddy.” It is too much; Hanzo keeps squirming on the throbbing length as he struggles to adjust to the unfamiliar size. Warm, soft lips swallow any further sound he makes, and McCree distracts him with a skilled, swift tongue. They exchange lazy, deep kisses until the burn is mostly gone and Hanzo feels ready to move. At first McCree leaves him in charge, steadying by his hips and only occasionaly thrusting up to meet him.

“What a sweet, good boy. Ridin’ Daddy’s cock so well.” The praise settles deep in his bones, only adding fuel to the fire and Hanzo rides him more desperately, until his thighs lose the strength to keep him up and moving. Taking pity on the young man bouncing eagerly on hi cock, McCree lifts Hanzo off and motions for him to turn around. He sinks back down on McCree’s cock, back flush against a broad chest and each of the cowboy’s hands slips under a knee, spreading Hanzo’s legs further.

McCree starts to set a brutal pace, not losing any more time to bury himself balls deep into Hanzo’s hole, making him bounce with each thrust. 

Surely this wasn’t what Hanzo’s father had in mind when he hired the American to tutor his eldest son in advanced English. Perhaps he should have been more specific about it.

“So tight for me. My lil’ boy loves Daddy’s cock, right?” Hanzo’s second orgasm fast approaches and he knows he won’t last much longer, not with McCree whispering sweet praise and dirty little things into his ear. His toes curl and he considers misbehaving again, but more than anything he wants to be a good boy right now and earn his reward. 

“I do. I love Daddy’s cock. Please, I want to-- I can’t much longer,” his soft whines turn into pleading, chanting ‘please, Daddy’ until his throat is sore and he can’t do anything but silently beg for it. 

Jesse McCree is no cruel man, at least not to Hanzo as he finally wraps his prosthetic hand around his aching cock, taking him to orgasm with only a few jerks of his hand. “That’s it. Don’t worry, darlin’. Daddy’s got you.” 

He strokes Hanzo through his orgasm, slowing down the movements of his own hips until the young man leans back against his chest, boneless and properly fucked. McCree peppers his neck with kisses and can’t help but to leave some evidence behind. Hanzo clenches around him at the sensation and it’s enough to send him over the edge too, burying himself inside one last time as he groans against Hanzo’s neck.

They both collapse on the tatami mat, still connected. McCree doesn’t bother himself to pull out yet, curling his body around his student’s and lazily thrusting a few more times into his slick and wide hole. Hanzo makes a sound of protest, his body aching and in need of rest, but he won’t refuse the other man anything. 

Perhaps hiring a tutor wasn’t such a bad idea after all, he muses. At least his father will be pleased with his expanding knowledge. That Hanzo spends half of their lessons sucking his tutor’s cock and getting fucked into the floor until he begs, will remain their dirty little secret.


End file.
